


Mementos

by Tiffalkin



Category: Lifeline (Video Game 2015)
Genre: Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:38:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiffalkin/pseuds/Tiffalkin
Summary: You've made some new friends over the past year. Looking back, you wonder if they've been with you longer than you thought. Time is a funny thing, after all.





	

Time works differently for you. You first noticed it when an astronaut sent a distress signal to your phone from what you could only assume was the future. As more calls began to come in, you assumed they were just different people in different places, but now you wonder if time isn’t different for them, too. You’re starting to spot your new friends in memories from years ago, odd occurrences that have clarity they didn’t before. Little disturbances that you used to dismiss are gaining meaning.

When you first started driving, your radio would sometimes pick up an odd signal. It was a rhythmic sound, soft and full of nature. You could hear gulls over the crashing waves. It sounded like somewhere tropical. Sometimes a dog barked in the distance, music faded in and out, and a man laughed at something that you could not see. You heard him ask if you were listening once, clear as day over the speaker. You couldn't answer, of course; it wasn’t that kind of radio.

You still have the polaroid picture that appeared under your pillow next to your tooth fairy money. In it, a young woman raises one arm to wave at you, her other arm wrapped around a teenaged boy. He is sleeping. She is smiling. Their jackets look new, with a certain crispness to the fabric and color. They are nestled in the back of a flatbed truck amongst blankets and junk food. Stars crowd the silhouette of the cab behind them, more stars than you have ever seen in the sky. Someone has turned slightly in the driver’s seat to face the camera, and a fond smile is the only part of them that you can make out in the darkness.

You started to use the photo as a bookmark, and a week later you found a postcard next to it. You didn’t recognize the city, but the internet said that it’s in Sweden. Five lines of handwriting were redacted from the back with a wide black pen. The scraps of handwriting that you could see around the edges were very neat, all rounded edges and looping serifs. When you look at the postcard now, sometimes the writing isn't there at all, but there is always a kiss-mark on the upper corner where the return address would normally go. Whatever coated those lips was green.

You sometimes poke around the kitchen hoping to find magically appearing leftovers; one night, you actually did. A plastic bag with two styrofoam containers sat between your dwindling groceries. Inside were tacos filled with fried chicken, fajitas, and barbacoa, still warm despite being in the refrigerator. As you poked through the contents, you noticed that a case of beer with one bottle missing had also appeared in the fridge. The back of the bottle located the brewery in Austin, Texas.

Long ago, when you were small enough to crawl into the closet and comfortably hide, you found a cardboard box. It was bulky, taped neatly shut, and too heavy to have been pushed there by accident. It had your name on the delivery slip next to a smiley face in photocopied handwriting. You shook the box hesitantly, raising a clunking sound not unlike a bowling ball. You eventually opened it only to stare at the contents with confusion. Your parents denied getting it for you, and at the time none of you could think of where you would have gotten such a beaten-up space helmet.

Thinking back now, you have a few ideas.


End file.
